


It's Too Far Back to Remember How We Got Here

by Poulman021



Category: Captain America (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Brainwashing, Catholic, Confessions, F/M, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Original Character(s), Past Torture, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Recovery
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-12
Updated: 2017-01-12
Packaged: 2018-09-17 03:21:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 13,852
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9301775
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Poulman021/pseuds/Poulman021
Summary: Steve and Bucky enjoying their lives as a middle class couple in a small town. Because we all know they deserve some peace and quiet.





	1. Chapter 1

            Every cell ignites as the ice melts away. A guttural scream escapes his lips; it itches and it _burns_. Once his skin isn’t so cold that it burns to touch him, they pull him out of the Cryotank. The medical staff in white coats poke and prod at him with needles and strange metal instruments that seem to be more and more complex each time he’s defrosted. After the scientists run all of their diagnostics on him to make sure he’s healthy enough for missions, they give their confirmation in Russian—wasn’t it German last time?—before stepping away to make room for his handler.

            The Asset doesn’t recognize this handler, meaning a new handler has bought him. His new handler has graying blond hair and beady eyes. Thin lips pulled into a nasty smirk. The Asset doesn’t flinch as the new handler raises his hand and grabs the Asset by the back of the neck. He throws the Asset onto the floor and swiftly kicks the Asset twice in the gut. Standing over the Asset, breath slightly heavy, the older man spits, “I’m your handler now, soldier.”

            Through the blood in his teeth the Asset replies, “Ready to comply.” His voice feels like gravel in his throat after weeks—months? Years?—of not speaking due to Cryo. His new handler gives a curt nod before saying something to the med staff and then promptly turning on his heel and exiting the room.

            Coming out of Cryo so recently leaves the Asset’s insides feeling numb as his new handler kicked him, but as he continues to defrost the pain begins to set in. Everywhere his skin touches the floor feels like cigarettes being put out and his stomach begins to feel like his handler is still kicking him over and over and over again.

 

            Bucky jerked with a gasp as he woke up, eyes searching desperately around him to remember when and where he was. They’re in a truck. Driving. It was the faded gray pickup they’d bought a few weeks ago. Outside the window trees blurred by. Sarah, their golden retriever, was looking at him with big brown eyes and panting her dog breath in his face. And _Steve._ Thank god Steve was sitting in the driver’s seat, eyes on the road, but his hand over Bucky’s as his thumb stroked Bucky’s metal knuckles soothingly as if Bucky could feel it. Without looking at Bucky, Steve commented, “You were crying out in your sleep again.” Bucky nodded, looking down at where Steve’s hand was over his; where flesh encompassed metal. When Bucky didn’t say anything, Steve continued, “Wanna talk about it?” This was familiar to Bucky; the same pattern every time one of them woke up from a nightmare, though this was the first time it’d ever happened on the road.

            Bucky sucked in a long, shaky breath, causing his metal arm to recalibrate in an attempt to relax along with the rest of his body. “I—it was just—“ He snapped his jaw shut in an effort to contain the jumbled words. Steve gave his hand an encouraging squeeze and Bucky pressed his eyes closed. Behind his eyelids flashed his handler’s grin before he yanked the Asset to the ground to beat him. A wave of nausea swept over Bucky and he pried his eyes open again, away from one of the many scenes of torture that haunted his dreams. His eyes followed the rushing pine trees out the window: green fusing with brown as the trees melted into one solid wall of color on the side of the road. Sarah gave a soft whine in the middle seat behind him. After licking his lips he tried again without looking at Steve, “I got out of Cryo and I had a new handler. He threw me to the floor and kicked me.” They were simple words without detail of how painful it was coming out of Cryo—what it felt like to have every frozen cell in your body finally defrost after _years_ of being on ice—but Bucky didn’t have to explain it to Steve. Because Steve had been frozen. Even if he’d only defrosted once, he still understood what absolute hell it was.

            Steve didn’t say anything; just let his hand move higher up Bucky’s metal arm, now stroking his wrist and forearm in comfort. After six months of searching for Bucky, Steve and Sam had to return to the States for a national emergency involving alien robots. A week after the whole debacle, just as Steve was preparing to head out again to find his best friend, Bucky appeared to Steve and told him to stop trying to find him. Steve begged Bucky to come home with him. But Bucky had to disappear. He was dangerous so long as people knew he existed. So Steve decided he was going to disappear with his best friend. Together they packed up Steve’s recently acquired truck with each of their few belongings and hit the road. They spent three months driving across the country and living in cheap motels and eating at dirty diners. A week into their three-month road trip they picked up a stray golden retriever and named her after Steve’s mom. Finally the two super soldiers settled on a place to live. Which was where they were driving to now. It was an out of the way town up in the mountains—secluded enough for the people there to not be too familiar with Captain America and his Sergeant. The town was quiet and that was exactly what Steve and Bucky needed after too many years of war and torture and endless fighting. Just a place where they could finally settle down like they’d always wanted—like they’d planned to do after the war before everything had changed.

            The trees began to thin slightly as buildings started to pop up: first a gas station, and then a few small restaurants on the side of the road. The small town came into full view as the truck cleared a few more trees. People walked about in what appeared to be the town square. A large market was set in the center as people conversed and bought food and materials from vendors. Within the square was less than a few hundred people, and something told Steve that that was probably about the size of the entire town’s population. In one corner of the square, an elderly couple was conversing away from the market. Steve parked the car in the parking space closest to them, gave Bucky a reassuring smile, and hopped out of the car with Sarah right on his heels. The elderly couple looked up from their conversation to see Steve and peered around him to see Bucky in the car. He smiled at them in greeting before saying, “Excuse me, but we’re looking for 2131 Orange Grove.”

            The older man was thin and lean with knobby knees that didn’t seem to hold him completely upright. His wife was shorter and stouter with gray hair pulled back in a tight bun and tight lips puckered. Her wrinkled face softened to a kinder expression as she turned to point to a dirt road off the side of the square that went further up the side of the mountain. “You two the reason those moving trucks came through a couple a days ago?” The husband asked with a small quirk of his brow.

            Steve gave a curt nod, preparing to go back to the car.

            “And you boys know there’s only one bedroom in that whole house?” The woman asked in a raspy voice.

            “Yes, ma’am.” The elderly couple didn’t look at Steve with disgust like he expected; just curiosity. Steve gave them a tight smile before replying, “We’re both veterans. Just looking for some peace and quiet so we can settle down.” Their expressions softened and the woman gave Steve a small nod. He thanked them before returning to the car.

            The movers had furnished the small cabin two days prior to Bucky and Steve’s arrival. Two wooden rocking chairs populated the front porch, as well as an outside dog bed for Sarah. The inside of the little house was fairly simple in furniture except for the small art set up in the back of the living room and the record player in the hallway. Steve and Bucky unpacked their limited belongings in silence while Sarah mapped their new home with her nose. Their hands brushed from time to time, always giving Steve a small smile because he’d thought he’d never have this again.

 

* * *

 

 

            That first night was rough for Bucky. He was only asleep for three hours before he woke up screaming, drenched in sweat and completely confused as to where the hell he was. When Steve reached for him Bucky pinned his wrist to the headboard with his metal arm. “Buck! Bucky, it’s me! It’s Steve!” Bucky paused in his attack on his best friend. “It’s okay. You’re safe.” Steve said in between breaths. Without releasing his grip on Steve’s wrist, Bucky took a few deep breaths while looking between Steve’s warm blue eyes, letting the eye contact ground him and trying to match up his ragged breath to his best guy’s.

            “We moved. We’re in the new house. It’s 2015. I’m safe.” Bucky ticked off, focusing hard to remember the day prior. His grip on Steve relaxed enough that Steve was able to twist his hand to rub his thumb over Bucky’s wrist. “You’re here. I’m safe.” Bucky repeated until Steve gave him a reassuring nod.

            “You’re safe, Buck. No one is going to hurt you.” Steve scooted a little closer on the bed, his arm sliding from Bucky’s wrist down his arm to wrap hesitantly around his shoulders. “Can I touch you?” He asked gently; sometimes Bucky couldn’t be touched after one of his episodes. Bucky self-assessed before giving a small nod: it was all Steve needed for him to wrap his arm around Bucky and pull him into Steve’s gigantic side. Steve buried his nose in Bucky’s long dark hair, breathing in the scent of his best friend and thanking God for the millionth time that he got his best guy back even though there were obvious consequences. He pressed a kiss to the side of Bucky’s head before making his way to Bucky’s forehead, kissing down his nose and to one cheek before pressing a kiss to the corner of Bucky’s mouth. He pulled away to see into Bucky’s pale gray eyes, making sure all of this contact really wasn’t too much for Bucky right now. In response Bucky put his flesh hand on the back of Steve’s neck and pulled him in for a sloppy kiss on the mouth.

            “New house, new bed. Probably need to make sure it works okay.” Bucky drawled with a wolfish grin against Steve’s lips, waggling his eyebrows. Bucky needed a distraction. Steve nodded eagerly and allowed Bucky to push him back down onto the bed.

 

* * *

 

 

            The two super soldiers hadn’t even been in their new home a week before the weekend rolled around and Sunday came; Steve still insisted on attending church. It wasn’t even that Steve was all that religious anymore; it was that church was one of the few things that hadn’t changed drastically in the past seventy years. When Bucky was still struggling through recovering while him and Steve were on the road, he’d been hesitant about attending church with Steve. He felt that he reeked of blood and was being judged just by stepping within ten feet of a holy building. Bucky also had a few unpleasant memories of assassinating various religious figures within churches and other religious worship centers. But here they were, putting on their Sunday suits and hopping into the pickup truck, Bucky behind the wheel and Sarah remaining on the front porch of the house for the next couple of hours.

            Only one church resided in their new little town, right at the corner of the town square. They parked on the far side of the square to enjoy the short walk and to allow some of the older folks to park closer to the church building. Steve and Bucky were some of the last people to enter the church, and it felt as if everyone in the church—which was about half of the entire town—turned to look at them accusingly. Both of their super soldier enhanced hearing picked on some of the townspeople murmuring about them: mainly about how they were the new couple that’d moved into the old house up the mountain, and of course that they were two men in a relationship—something pretty foreign in this small town. Steve and Bucky consciously made an effort to keep at least a foot between the two of them as they walked down the aisle to take some seats in the back. After sitting down they caught sight of the old couple that had greeted them earlier that week offering the two of them welcoming smiles. Steve gave the couple a small wave and Bucky a thankful nod.

            After the service, Steve and Bucky remained seated while other churchgoers went through confessional. Steve had explained to Bucky that it was polite for them to meet Father Corbellus and go to confessional the first time around as a sign of good faith. Bucky merely rolled his eyes but of course he would do anything Steve asked. Steve caught the curious eyes of some of the townspeople filing out of the church, clearly amused that the two newcomers were making the effort to stick around; everyone kind of expected the two large men to bolt the moment the service ended.

            Finally, the last woman left the confessional booth and took to her knees to do penance. Steve grasped Bucky on the shoulder, gave a small squeeze, and then stood up and made his way to the confessional booth. After going through the usual script, the Father cleared his throat and said a little offhandedly, “So you and your friend are new in town? I’m Father Corbellus. It’s a pleasure to meet you. Staying long I hope?”

            “Uh, yeah.” Steve said a little awkwardly. He licked his lips and tried to say more confidently, “We wanted to get away from the city for a while. We’re, uh, both veterans. We’ve known each other since we were kids and both went to war together. Been through a lot. Needed somewhere small and quiet.” Through the holes of the intricate wooden panel separating Steve from Father Corbellus, he could see the older man’s dark eyes searching Steve’s face with a soft expression that held understanding. Before Father Corbellus could say anything, Steve began listing off his sins, starting with any violence and killing he’d done since his last confession and ending with making love with another man.

            Father Corbellus raised his eyebrow at that last one. He gave Steve a stern look before giving Steve his penance for the violent acts and nothing for his confession of sodomy. Steve decided not to question and continued on with the usual script. Before stepping out of the confessional booth, however, he felt a need to inform Father Corbellus, “My friend has been through a lot, Father. He’s a POW. The enemy kept him for a really long time. They—They brainwashed and tortured him. Made him do a lot of things he didn’t want to do.” He held Father Corbellus’ eyes with a firm look. “If he tries to confess for any of those things, don’t let him. It wasn’t his own sins he committed.” Once Father Corbellus nodded in confirmation, Steve gave a quick thanks and slid out of the booth. As he passed Bucky he gave him a reassuring smile before getting to his knees and beginning penance.

 

* * *

 

 

            Steve and Bucky brushed hips as they made their way down their dirt road to the town’s only park. The park was really the only thing in town within walking distance so they thought it was time they finally check it out. Sarah was trotting along happily behind them, occasionally barking at something new and exciting—aka, squirrels—with tail wagging vigorously. Anytime they left the house, Bucky covered his metal hand with a sleek black glove. They joked softly to one another as they walked down the hill, Brooklyn accents slipping out and phrases from another time.

            The park was mostly empty, save for an old man reading a newspaper on the far bench and a pregnant woman with her hands being held by a little boy and girl. As Steve and Bucky approached nearer they heard the little boy complain, “Mama! You just bought me this truck so now you have to come play with it, too!”

            The mom sat her two kids down on the bench and patted down some of her son’s unruly brown hair. “I’m tired honey. Why don’t you get your sister to play with you?”

            Pouting, the boy sulked, “She just wants to play on the monkey bars.” Steve gave Bucky a side eye, remembering Bucky saying something similar about his younger sister Rebecca way back when. Bucky just rolled his eyes as they continued their walk along the park path.

            Clearly not paying attention to the current conversation, the little girl—who appeared younger than the little boy—tugged on her mom’s sleeve and asked innocently, “When’s daddy coming home?”

            Pulling her daughter against her side the mom said—something that souneds like a repeat—“Daddy’ll be home in a little less than two months, hon. But he’s coming back from war so Daddy’s going to be really tired and it’s important that we let him rest for a few days.”

            Steve and Bucky exchanged frowns with one another until Steve’s attention was directed to a small tug on his sleeve. He turned and looked down to see the little boy holding out his toy truck to Steve. “Wanna play? It’s my brand new truck!” The boy said proudly, flying it through the air—much to the mother’s horror that her son had interrupted two strangers’ walk. The two super soldiers gave her a dismissive wave, letting her know it was no trouble at all.

            “Sure. I’d love to.” Steve let the boy tug him toward the grass where they both kneeled down to drive the truck along the ground. Bucky smiled softly to himself at Steve enjoying himself while playing with the kid. They’d never really talked about having kids—thought it was kind of a no-brainer. Bucky was still a danger to himself and others. No way a kid was going to be in the picture.

He was yanked out of his train of thought when a small voice asked, “Will you help me with the monkey bars?” Bucky looked down to see the little girl looking up at him with innocent brown eyes that were large as saucers.

“Sure, kid.” He said softly with a grin. Her face lit up and she squealed in delight as he lifted her up and held her up to grab hold of the bars. It felt familiar, and he felt a pang in his chest as he thought of Rebecca. Bossy little Rebecca with curly brown hair and always a snarky comment on her lips—something that had run in the Barnes family.

Steve and Bucky played with the two kids for almost an hour until their mother called to them to collect them for dinner. They followed the kids back to the mom and she thanked them profusely for playing with her children. “I just get so tired now.” She laughed and gestured at her swollen belly.

“It’s no problem, ma’am, really.” Steve said earnestly, offering her one of his Captain America smiles.

“Oh please, call me Cindy.” The woman said, offering them both her hand. They introduced themselves while the kids started playing with Sarah—much to Sarah’s pleasure.

“If you don’t mind me asking, Cindy, but how far along are you?” Bucky asked curiously, his eyes having been on her stomach for the past couple minutes.

She laughed—a sound like a bell—and answered, “Four months. Luckily Jerry gets back later this month, which will be a tremendous help.”

“Jerry’s your husband? Is he military?”

Cindy nodded. “Air force.” She looked between the two. “Rumor has it that you two are veterans?”

Steve nodded and gestured between him and Bucky, “Army.”

“My uncle was army. Maybe you two know him?” She asked hopefully.

Bucky gave an easy laugh, always much better at playing this stuff off than Steve. “We were special forces so we don’t really know much else outside of our own.” He offered.


	2. Chapter 2

Steve and Bucky became good friends with Cindy over the next month, coming over to her house several times a week to help her with the kids and keep her company. The kids—Ben and Isabella—absolutely latch onto Steve and Bucky to the point where they start referring to them as Uncle Steve and Uncle Bucky, which makes both of the super soldiers blush. They’d been in the town for a little over six weeks and the townspeople were just starting to come around and soften up to them. Of course there were still a few naysayers, but so far no one had said anything to their face about them being two men in a romantic relationship except for little Ben (which was more of a curiosity thing than anything since it was nonexistent in the little town he was growing up in).

Steve and Bucky were a little surprised when they got a call from Cindy three days after her husband, Jerry, had returned and invited them both over for dinner. The two of them had kind of expected to see much less of the family now that the husband was back, but she told them they were practically family now and she was eager for her husband to meet them. Steve cleared his throat and asked the awkward question that was written all over Bucky’s face as he listened in on the phone conversation, because even if Cindy was okay with it, it didn’t mean her husband was: “And you’re sure Jerry will be okay with me and Buck being, um, together?” Cindy had never mentioned once that Steve and Bucky were the only gay couple in town (well both of them still liked women, but they were pretty sure none of the townspeople thought that) but she definitely knew they were together just from the town rumors and because her and her kids were probably the only people in the entire town to see them show any kind of physical affection toward one another. A puff of air over the phone line let Steve know that Cindy was chuckling lightly at what he’d said, “Sorry, it’s just, um, sometimes in the military people can be weird about it… At least when we were in the army it was hard for us to, uh, be open about our relationship.” It was the understatement of the century. Cindy gave a soft hum in understanding.

“Don’t worry, Steve. Jerry will be fine with it. I think one of the men on his platoon is gay.” She said thoughtfully.

Bucky yanked the phone from Steve’s phone and said with a grin, “You know we like women, too, right?” Then quiet enough so that only Steve could hear Bucky muttered in humored agitation, “You’d think with how accepting this century is people would understand that dating a man doesn’t mean ‘only into men.’”

Cindy laughed again over the phone and said, “I kind of suspected that at least for you, Bucky. I saw you checking out Wanda Johnson at church the other day!”

Bucky gave a shrug, though Cindy couldn’t see it, and chuckled, “What can I say, she’s a looker. But nobody’s got anything on Stevie.” He gave Steve a wink and said, “Alright, doll, we’ll be over in an hour. And we’ll bring Sarah to play with the kids.” Cindy said her goodbyes and hung up. He leered at Steve and said, “How much do you think we could get done in an hour?”

“Why don’t you ask Wanda Johnson?” Steve retorted mockingly, but showed he wasn’t actually mad when his face broke into an amused smile.

Bucky rolled his eyes, “Oh please, you would’ve checked her out too if you weren’t Mr. Modest and Polite Captain America.” Steve’s smile just widened more and he put his hands on Bucky’s shoulders and steered him toward the shower.

 

Jerry was a tall man with tan skin and dark brown hair cut short to his scalp. He smiled easily and loved to tease his children and make his wife laugh. Upon opening the door and greeting Steve and Bucky, he shook both their hands enthusiastically and thanked them profusely for helping his wife out and entertaining the kids. Steve and Bucky tried to assure him it really was no problem, and that he had a beautiful family. Cindy ushered all of them inside to sit on the couch while the kids went outside to play fetch with Sarah. The four adults talked for an hour while they waited for dinner; from anything about military to baseball (Steve and Bucky didn’t watch football, but stayed old school with baseball). Jerry’s hand constantly hovered over Cindy’s enlarged stomach, and his face absolutely lit up when he felt a kick from the unborn baby. “You two ever thought about kids?” Jerry asked after he felt another kick.

Before Bucky or Steve got the chance to get a response out, Cindy added, “You’re both wonderful with Ben and Isabella.”

Steve awkwardly scratched the back of his head and Bucky, without taking his eyes off Steve, smiled sadly and answered, “I don’t think it’s in the cards for us.”

“Cindy mentioned that you guys came out here to find some peace and quiet.” It wasn’t really a question, but Steve could hear the deeper question behind it.

Steve gave Jerry a tight nod and pushed out a breath between his teeth. “We can hardly get through a whole night’s sleep without nightmares. And Buck—“ He stopped and turned to his best friend before receiving a tight nod in approval from Bucky to continue—“Buck was tortured and—and brainwashed for a long time. He’s doing really good; making a lot of progress.” Steve clutched Bucky’s metal hand through the glove and gave it a reassuring squeeze; he hadn’t taken his eyes off of his best guy once. Steve found he couldn’t finish what he was saying, because all he could imagine was Bucky in that damn chair with Pierce hovering over him with his beady eyes and a wicked smile.

“But it wouldn’t be safe to have kids around all the time. Too many flashbacks and triggers.” Bucky finished for Steve, moving his free hand to cup Steve’s cheek to get him to breathe and calm down. After Steve matched his breathings to Bucky’s soothing ones, they both turned to see Cindy and Jerry looking at the two of them with compassion and understanding, Cindy with tears in her eyes and Jerry’s face schooled into a calm expression.

 

* * *

 

Sal and George—the old couple that had helped Steve and Bucky find their house when they first moved into the small town—invited Steve and Bucky over for lunch after church almost every Sunday since the third week they’d moved in. George was a Vietnam veteran. He was bitter about the war he’d fought in, but spent most of their shared lunches talking about how he and Sal met, their children, and their grandchildren. Sal had been a doctor back in her day—a surgeon—who’d made it easy for her and her husband to live and raise their children comfortably. Unlike her husband, Sal had grown up in the city with an open mind, but had agreed to move to her husband’s hometown after their third child was born so that they could raise their three children in a quiet environment.

It was late spring, and despite the town being high and deep in the mountains, it was starting to warm up. Steve had graduated to jeans and a tight t-shirt, but Bucky was still clinging to thin long sleeves over his undershirts and a black glove to hide his metal left arm. George and Sal knew Bucky had a prosthetic—they’d talked about it plenty of times—but no one outside of Steve in the town had yet to see the advanced arm. It’s not that him and Steve thought people would recognize Bucky as the Winter Soldier, or at least as the man that had attacked the Triskelion in D.C.; not enough people had cable or kept up too closely to the outside world’s news. But Bucky was still self-conscious about the arm. The arm that had been built by one of the worst, psychopath-murdering organizations—a goddamn _Nazi_ organization—in the history of the world. The arm didn’t look human and had been used to do things that no human should ever to do another living thing. It took Bucky over a month of being on the road with Steve and traveling across the country until he was comfortable enough to let Steve touch it. Even now, after being together again for over five months, Steve still had to kiss Bucky’s metal palm, wrist, the mottled scars where metal met flesh on his shoulder, to remind Bucky that the arm didn’t bother him; that Steve didn’t think it made him a monster, or someone else’s property.

So when George gestured at Bucky’s left arm, eyebrows raised in amusement, and said, “Son, it’s too hot to be wearing a long sleeve. I promise I’ve seen plenty of prosthetics before—and some were probably a lot uglier than whatever you’ve got going on under there,” Bucky hesitated. Steve’s hand drifted to rest on Bucky’s knee, letting him know it was his decision and he’d support him no matter what. Bucky remained still for a moment, thinking about it—actually considering it—and bit his lip as he looked up to George and Sal’s faces, which held nothing but honest to god understanding and support. Bucky let go of a shaky breath before pulling at the bottom hem of his shirt and sliding it up over his head. The glove came off with the shirt and he put both on the back of his chair. Sal, George, and Steve resumed eating as if nothing had changed and Bucky picked up the fork in his metal hand, always having been left-hand dominant, and shoved another bite of the chicken in his mouth just to give himself something to do other than fidget. After a few bites in silence, George chuckled softly and muttered, “They always gave Special Forces the fancy stuff.”


	3. Chapter 3

Bucky was having one of his bad days. It always killed Steve to see, because there was never much he could do but recognize what kind of bad day; whether he could touch and comfort, or keep his distance and keep his actions slow. Bad days for Bucky were becoming less and less frequent as he healed, but no matter how much time passed between them they were never any less severe. Sometimes Bucky was triggered by something—a phrase, visual stimulus, and, twice, a physical stimulus—that caused him to fall into some terrible flashback that usually left Bucky unable to speak for the rest of the day, alternating between crying his eyes out and spacing out. Those were the days that Steve couldn’t get near Bucky without his best guy flinching and screaming and panicking. That morning, however, Bucky had been held in the clutches of a nightmare and was thrashing violently and crying out in different languages. When Steve had tried to wake Bucky up, Bucky had predictably grabbed Steve by the neck and thrown him into the far wall. Before Steve got the chance to even stand on his own, Bucky was all over him: he kneed Steve in the stomach and got a few punches in. As Bucky reared back his left arm to deliver a punch to the throat that would probably collapse Steve’s trachea, Steve grabbed Bucky’s wrist and began spouting commands in Russian for the Winter Soldier to stand down. When Bucky blinked back to reality he collapsed into Steve’s arms and cried.

Bucky spent most of the day crying, spacing out, and trying to remember how to speak English. Luckily, it wasn’t one of those days where he was afraid of Steve and Sarah; in fact, on these days he craved physical touch as a grounding method. Bucky had finally stopped crying long enough for Steve to coax Bucky to the kitchen table while he heated up some soup (Bucky had thrown up his breakfast and hadn’t eaten anything else all day). Sarah had her head resting on Bucky’s knee as he sat at the kitchen table, letting him gently—consciously more gently than normal—stroke behind her ears with his metal hand. Steve was telling Bucky about a few of the funny things that had happened to him and Sam while they were looking for the Winter Soldier in those six months, just babbling to soothe Bucky while he wasn’t within physical contact. Staring down sadly at Sarah’s round brown eyes, Bucky rasped, “Heute nacht war das datum nacht mit Cindy und Jerry.” Bucky was still having trouble speaking English, and so far throughout the day had spoken mostly Russian and German, but also Mandarin, Arabic, Gujarati, Portuguese, and what Steve guessed was Swahili. Natasha had taught Steve a fair amount of Russian, which was the most useful; but Steve was only fluent in French outside of English and the only German he knew was a few slang terms he’d learned during the war.

Steve did, however, recognize that Bucky had said Cindy and Jerry’s name in his impeccable accent. He suspected that Bucky was piping up on the fact that that night was supposed to be date night with Cindy and Jerry (every few week the two couples went into the city that was about forty-five minutes away and went out to fancy restaurants). Setting the bowl of soup down in front of Bucky and placing the spoon into Bucky’s hand to ensure he would at least try to eat, Steve smiled softly at his best friend and promised, “I’ll call them and let them know we need to reschedule for next weekend.” He sat down at the table across from Bucky, watching as Bucky ate and pulled his cell phone out of his pocket. He dialed the home phone number rather than one of their friends’ cell numbers and waited patiently.

Jerry answered, “This is Jerry Terrence.”

“Hey, Jerry, this is Steve.” With his serum-enhanced hearing, Steve could hear Cindy in the background asking Jerry who was on the phone while Isabella and Ben sounded like they were fighting over some toy.

“Hey, man, how’s a going? Is everything okay with you and Buck?”

“Yeah, everything’s fine. Bucky’s feeling a little under the weather is all so I think we’re gonna have to reschedule date night to next weekend.” He said regrettably.

“Alright, I’ll let Cindy know. Tell him we both say to get better, yeah?” Jerry was so kind.

“Yeah. Thanks.”

“Let us know if there’s anything we can do to help.” Jerry insisted.

Steve laughed lightly. “I will. Thanks.”

When Steve hung up, Bucky had finished most of his soup. He had tears in his eyes again; probably still seeing whatever it was he’d had a nightmare about. Swiftly, Steve took Bucky’s bowl to the sink, rinsed it, and put it in the dishwasher to be cleaned before he returned to his best friend’s side. Before Steve could even get a word out, a sob broke through Bucky’s chest and he fell into Steve’s arms, his metal hand clutching tightly enough at Steve’s bicep that he knew there’d be bruises later. Sarah whimpered and licked at Bucky’s cheek while Steve pressed his own kisses to the top of Bucky’s head and whispered, “It’s okay; I’ve got you,” over and over again.

 

A few hours later, Steve was surprised when Sarah leapt up from her place at Bucky’s side on the couch and ran excitedly to the front door, tail wagging and staccato barks startling Steve and Bucky from their cuddling on the couch. Not even three seconds later, the doorbell sounded. Steve glanced at Bucky: his cheeks had dry tearstains and his eyes were still a little puffy from crying the hour before (well from crying for half of the day, really). His dark hair was limp and not pulled back into its usual casual ponytail and his face was pale and tired looking. Steve gave him a quick kiss on the lips before untangling himself from his best guy to go answer the door.

Cindy and Jerry were standing on the porch with unsure, but welcoming smiles. Cindy was holding a large pot that was covered, but smelled heavenly. Sarah barked happily and rushed out to greet them and Jerry knelt down to pet her like she wanted. “Sorry, we didn’t mean to surprise you guys, but I felt bad that you couldn’t make it to date night, so I thought I’d bring date night to you.” She offered the pot and Steve took it.

“Thank you; that’s so thoughtful.” It was the first thing Steve could think to say because his Ma had raised him to be polite. “Bucky’s, uh, Bucky’s having one of his bad days.” He tried to explain. Jerry’s lips were pressed into a tight line and Cindy’s expression fell into one that was purely concern.

Steve was trying to think of how to nicely send their friends away, and it looked like Jerry was just about to offer to leave, when Bucky croaked from inside the house, “It’s okay, Steve.” It was the first English he’d been able to manage all day. Steve knew better than to ask Bucky if he was sure—knew that it’d probably be hard for Bucky to get out English again—and stepped aside so that Cindy and Jerry could go inside. He closed the door after Sarah trotted contently inside.

Bucky was in sweats and standing in the middle of the kitchen, looking incredibly uncomfortable as he tried to figure out what to do with himself. He was in a t-shirt; it was the first time the other couple had ever seen Bucky’s metal arm after having suspected he probably had a prosthetic. They both kept their gazes on his face and expressions schooled to make them appear calm and supporting. Cindy and Jerry could tell that Bucky had been crying; god knows Jerry had cried a couple times since returning from his second tour. Cindy’s face settled into a calming smile and she said softly, “I brought over my grandma’s recipe for beef stew. Makes you feel warm all over.” Bucky tried to manage a small smile, failed, and made his way over to his two closest friends outside of Steve. He ignored his fear of hurting them—especially Cindy, who was starting to really swell with the baby only a few months away—and gently tugged Cindy into a hug. She seemed surprised by the action, but wrapped her arms around Bucky all the same. He wasn’t sure if it was because she had two kids and a third on the way, or if because her hair faintly smelled the same, but in that moment Cindy reminded Bucky of his mom. His beautiful, kind, take-no-shit mother who’d died so long ago. Steve was busy heating up the beef stew on the stovetop and Jerry was watching quietly as Bucky hugged his wife. Pulling away, Bucky glanced at Jerry and then pulled him into a hug as well.

Bucky had yet to say a word as the four of them sat around the table with plates of beef stew and glasses of wine. Steve kept his left hand firmly on Bucky’s right thigh, grounding him, as he retold a story of Bucky back when they were younger and just friends living together in Brooklyn instead of sweethearts. Of course, Steve left out the part where it was 1937 at the time. “Bucky was always so smooth with women back then. Any time he decided to go out to the bar and go dancing, he’d pick up _at least_ one girl. Every damn time.”

Cindy swallowed around a mouthful and said, “What about you? You’re good-looking, too, Steve!” She narrowed her eyes at Steve, not giving him any room to say anything self-deprecating to disagree with her. Beside Cindy, her husband laughed and took another sip of wine.

Steve laughed too and replied, “I didn’t look like this back then. I was much smaller. Army fixed me right up.”

From beside him, Bucky scoffed. “Ах да, будучи танцовщицей фиксированным вам прямо.” He grumbled. Steve recognized enough to know Bucky was somehow making fun of Steve for being a showgirl before an actual soldier.

“I didn’t know you spoke Russian, Buck.” Jerry said with a hint of fascination in his voice. Bucky merely shrugged uncomfortably.

Interested and clearly pleased to have Bucky finally participating in the conversation, Cindy continued to try and keep him engaged, “What other languages do you speak, Bucky?”

“Muitos.” Bucky mumbled.

“Was that Portuguese?” Jerry asked.

Before their friends could ask him more questions—especially ones that they’d probably want in English—and make Bucky more uncomfortable, Steve moved his hand from Bucky’s thigh to his right hand, gave it a squeeze, and explained, “Sometimes Bucky has trouble sticking to one language when he’s having a rough day.” Understanding seemed to dawn on Cindy and Jerry’s faces as they realized why Bucky had been so hesitant to join the conversation up until that point. After that, for the rest of their impromptu date night, the married couple kept any questions they had for Bucky into ones that he could answer with a simple yes or no response—which was one of the biggest blessings Bucky could’ve ever asked for.

 

* * *

 

That next weekend the four of them were able to make it out to date night in the nearby city. It was a small, clean city that was busy enough on a Saturday night to be considered lively, but not so busy as to be crowded. Steve and Bucky’s biggest challenge was always avoiding being noticed by other people so as not to be recognized, all the while making sure that Cindy and Jerry didn’t notice that they were trying to avoid being noticed. It was a difficult feat, but so far they’d managed.

Both couples were seated across from each other at a booth of their decidedly favorite French restaurant, laughing at some of Jerry’s air force stories. When a comfortable silence rang out between the four of them, Bucky asked, “So how did the two of you meet?” Steve and Bucky knew a lot about Cindy and Jerry: about both of their families, political and religious views, and lives before moving to their small town.

The married couple turned to look at one another, trying to gouge how to start the story. Cindy turned back to Bucky first and began, “Well, I was a military psychologist on the same base that Jerry was doing basic at. He’d actually been trying to get a date with one of my colleagues, but she wasn’t really interested. She thought I might work out with him so she introduced us and things just went from there.”

“Every time I see that woman, I still thank her.” Jerry laughed lightly. He gestured between Steve and Bucky. “How’d you two meet?”

It was Bucky and Steve’s turn to look at each other and figure out who was going to start telling the story. Before Steve got the chance, Bucky said, “Well this asshole had too strong a sense of justice for his own good.” Jerry and Cindy burst out laughing and Steve turned a rosy shade of red. When Jerry and Cindy’s (and Bucky’s) laughter settled down, Bucky continued with a huge grin, “Stevie was eight and I was nine. I was in the orphanage at that point with my younger sister, and I _hated_ that place so I always snuck out when the Sisters were busy. I was just walking down the street minding my own business when I come across this little punk getting the snot beaten out of him,” Bucky knocked his shoulders with Steve, “but the dumbass kept standing back up every time they knocked him down!” Steve tried to hide his face while Cindy just mouthed “predictable” and Jerry chuckled. “Back then, Steve was nothing but skin and bones and he was short and sickly. No way he was gonna win that fight. So I stepped in, got a black eye for my troubles, and this punk wouldn’t even thank me!” Steve just rolled his eyes beside Bucky. “After he _finally_ let me help him up, I walked him home.”

Steve finally felt it appropriate to share: “Ma thought that _he_ was the one to beat me up until I explained it to her. Then she invited him to stay over for dinner. After that, Buck and I were thick as thieves.” He looked regrettably at his best friend. “Once his sister got adopted, he’d start sleeping over a lot. And when Ma died, I was at the same orphanage.” Bucky rubbed his hand over Steve’s and gave him a small half smile. Steve turned back to Cindy and Jerry’s empathetic faces and gave them a small lopsided smile. “We got booted out of the orphanage when we were eighteen. Didn’t have any money, and I was still small and sickly back then so we shared an apartment that was smaller than our bedroom at the house.”

Cindy tried to muffle her surprise at the tininess of their old apartment. Jerry pressed on, “And that’s how you two got together?”

Steve shrugged; Bucky got a wolfish grin before saying, “Not exactly. We’d apparently both been in love with each other since we were kids, but we grew up Catholic so it wasn’t exactly something one of us could even consider.” He left out the part that eighty years ago, it was also illegal. “I, uh, used to have a lot of girls back then. But one night I came home drunk without a girl and I kissed Steve and told him how I felt.”

Cindy made an “aww” noise while Jerry laughed lightheartedly. Steve was blushing while he said, “We’d lived together for two years at that point, you jerk. What took ya so long?” That made the rest of them crack up laughing and they made a toast to romance before clinking together their wine glasses.


	4. Chapter 4

The baby, little Lea, was born in early fall. Steve and Bucky were over now even more frequently in an effort to help with the baby or to help with Ben and Isabella. Bucky had been extremely hesitant to hold Lea for the first few weeks after Cindy and Jerry brought her home from the hospital. But eventually, Cindy made him get over it and hold her kid when she needed a break. Bucky’s face as he stared down at the little bundle of innocence in his arms brought tears to Steve’s eyes, and for a moment he actually reconsidered the idea of him and Bucky getting a kid of their own.

A little over two months since Lea’s been born, Cindy finally put the baby down for her afternoon nap and wandered out into the living room to spend some time with her son while her husband took Isabella to a sleepover birthday party. Ben was sitting in the middle of the couch in the living room with a large book spread out on his lap. The book was half pictures and half text, and Cindy recognized it as the book her father had bought for Ben. Something about Captain America and the Howling Commandos. Cindy was fuzzy on American history, not having taken it since freshman year of high school, and she really only knew the basics of Captain America: he used to be small, was experimented on to become built like a tank, led the Howling Commandos to take down the Nazi scientist organization known as Hydra, and sacrificed himself to save a good chunk of the world from being blown up by bombs. Oh, and they’d found him from the ice a few years back and he was now the leader of the Avengers.

Ben looked up from the page he was on, noticing that his mother was finally away from the baby and able to spend some time with him. He’d been patiently waiting for his mom for at least half an hour, reading further and getting more excited as an idea formulated in his head. “Mama, I think Uncle Steve and Uncle Bucky are related to Captain Steve Rogers and Sergeant James Bucha—Buckon—Buchanan… Buchanan Barnes.” Ben stumbled on the middle name of the fallen Howling Commando. “It says the Sergeant went by ‘Bucky’ too! And they look alike.” Cindy had sat at the armchair next to the couch, trying to tidy up the blanket hanging off the end while listening to her son. “They look so much alike they could be twins!” Ben whispered conspiratorially, leaning across the space between the couch and the armchair. His forehead crinkled as he thought some more about the idea and decided matter of fact, “But they can’t be the same people. Because Uncle Steve and Uncle Bucky are gonna get married and Captain America was in love with Agent Peggy Carter and Sergeant Barnes had a lot of girlfriends.”

After finally settling the throw blanket, Cindy processed all that her son had said and replied, “They could be related? I don’t see why not. Can I see the book, Ben?” Her son placed the open book into her outstretched hand. She froze when she saw the familiar faces of her two best friends in the black and white photograph in the top corner of the page. They were both in back-then’s military uniforms with five other men (who must have been the rest of the Howling Commandos) surrounding them. She turned her gaze to the other page and saw profile pictures of Captain America in full getup and the Howling Commando’s sniper, Sergeant Barnes. Sure enough, it was definitely Steve’s face under the helmet of his Captain America uniform and a shorthaired version of Bucky holding a sniper rifle at his side.

Before Cindy could ask her son more about Captain America and Sergeant Barnes, her husband came through the front door with Mrs. Fontina behind him with her son Tristan. They were there to pick up Ben for a sleepover at Tristan’s house. “Hey, honey.” Jerry greeted her before turning to Ben, “You all packed, bud?” Ben nodded and ran to his room to grab his overnight bag. When he came back, Cindy got up to give him a hug and as he passed by the front door his father gave him a kiss on forehead before Ben followed Tristan and Mrs. Fontina out the door. Jerry noticed his wife’s dazed expression. “Cindy? Is everything alright?” He wandered over and lightly rested a hand on her upper arm.

Cindy twisted behind her and picked up the picture book from the armchair. She showed him the cover before flipping to the page she’d been on. Then she all but shoved the open book into her husband’s chest. “Is this real? Am I imagining this?” She asked while her husband looked down at the pages. It took a few moments for Jerry to process the content of the pages.

“Holy shit.” He whispered.

Without saying another word, the married couple dashed to the home’s only computer—which had hardly been touched since the baby was born—and immediately looked up “Captain America”. The first couple links were along the lines of “history of Captain America”, but as they scrolled further the links were news websites with headlines of “Captain America still missing”. Cindy scrolled over to images, and sure enough the screen populated with pictures of their friend Steve from during World War Two, of him fighting along the Avengers with his cowl up, and of him in either old army or Captain America uniform at Avenger press conferences. They knew that Captain America had been found alive. Everyone knew that. What they didn’t know was how the hell Bucky Barnes was here? They continued to scroll through the pictures until they saw a blurry image of Captain America battling a man in all black getup, with long black hair, a mask fit like a muzzle, and—the thing that really grabbed their attention—a metal arm. Cindy eagerly clicked on the image and followed the link that led to one of the main news report sites in D.C. Apparently the battle had revealed that a government agency called S.H.I.E.L.D. had been infiltrated deeply by Hydra, and resulted in the main government building, the Triskelion, to be completely destroyed due to helicarriers—what the hell were those?—falling from the sky. The mysterious man fighting Captain America was later identified as the “Winter Soldier” by the data drops released all over the internet by one Agent Natasha Romanoff. There was a link to the data drops. Cindy and Jerry regretted clicking it.

From the data drops the married couple learned this: Hydra—and later Russian and other organizations—had trained the Winter Soldier to be the world’s best assassin. This had been accomplished through severe torture such as beatings, rape, ice baths, waterboarding, and various medical procedures without anesthetic. On top of all of this, devices were used to wipe the Winter Soldier’s memories to make him more compliant to his handler’s orders. Mentioned in an extensive list were confirmed assassinations the Winter Soldier had carried out in the past seventy years—mainly important political figures and Hydra’s competition—as well as an even longer list of speculated assassinations. When the Soldier wasn’t needed for missions, he was kept in Cryostasis, which allowed the Soldier to continue doing his work for seventy years. No information has been acquired on the Winter Soldier since the large downfall of Hydra after it was revealed to have infested S.H.I.E.L.D.

Cindy had started crying when the reports went into detail about how the Soldier was tortured and to what extent. Jerry’s knuckles were painfully white as his hands gripped the back of the chair where his wife sat in front of the computer. They both felt sick to their stomachs and more confused than ever.

 

With Isabella at the sleepover birthday party and Ben’s sleepover at his friend’s, Cindy and Jerry had invited Bucky and Steve over for a makeshift date night weeks in advance. After Jerry got Lea up from her nap and fed her, the two parents discussed whether they should cancel the premade dinner plans with their two best friends or just barrel through and get it over with. After a half hour discussion, they decided they were just going to go through with it. Steve and Bucky were their best friends outside of each other—that much could never change. While Jerry played with Lea, Cindy made a salad and a sweet potato casserole (Steve and Bucky were bringing over the main dish and a bottle of wine).

Cindy and Jerry tried to hide their nervousness when their friends arrived; tried to speak without stuttering, asking questions that gave too much away, continue conversations without drifting into thinking about what Steve must have been like as a tiny asthmatic and about the horrible things that had been done to Bucky. Steve seemed completely oblivious to their awkwardness—probably because he was caught up in holding Lea in his giant arms—but Bucky kept giving the couple skeptical looks. Well, apparently he was the best-trained assassin in history. In fact, the four of them didn’t even make it until dinner when Bucky demanded, “Okay, spill.” Steve had paused in his rocking of Lea and Cindy and Jerry tried to feign innocence as they continued to set up the kitchen table for dinner. Bucky practically let out a low growl, “I can tell you two got something on your minds. _Spill_.”

Cindy glanced at her husband, met his dark eyes, and sighed. “Ben had this picture book earlier.”

When she didn’t say anything else, Bucky and Steve’s eyebrows both scrunched together. They were dressed in casual jeans, boots, and t-shirts; Cindy was having trouble peeling her eyes away from the faded red star on the shoulder of Bucky’s metal arm now that she knew its origin. Steve’s hair was a little shorter than it had been in the pictures taken during the Second World War; Cindy easily recognized the younger version of James Buchanan Barnes when Bucky wore his long hair back in a ponytail rather than having it hang in his face.

Jerry realized his wife still hadn’t clarified so he cleared his throat and supplied, “The book was about Captain America and the Howling Commandos.”

Bucky’s face was somehow calm and unsurprised as if he’d been expecting the whole time, but Steve’s eyes widened into surprise and clarification.

Cindy continued uncertainly, unable to help the way her voice broke in the middle, “And we read the files on the Winter Soldier.” She carefully avoided her two friends’ gazes as she said it, but when she looked up a moment later Steve’s jaw was clenched hard enough that she thought she heard it creaking, and Bucky had gone pale and his face was schooled into an emotionless mask. In a rush she quickly added, “It’s not your fault, Bucky. They made you do it. We know you’d never hurt anyone like that.”

Everything after that seemed completely still as the two couples regarded each other in tense silence. The silence was only broken when the timer for the sweet potato casserole went off and Cindy moved to take it out. Steve handed Lea off to Jerry so that he could move her to her chair at the table. Without a word, the four of them served the food and sat around the table, but nobody ate or touched their glass of wine.

Jerry cleared his throat. “A lot of news articles said that Captain America is still missing… Why did you leave?” He looked intently at Steve’s blue eyes, trying to convey that he didn’t care who they were; they were still friends.

Though it seemed forced, Steve shrugged. “We really did need to get away and have peace and quiet. After everything we’ve been through… and I finally got Bucky back and he needed to heal…” Steve sighed and met both of his two friends’ eyes. “I’m sorry we didn’t tell you. But we needed time to just be Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes. Not Captain America and the Winter Soldier.”

Cindy and Jerry nodded. Because that made sense—more so then any other answer they’d been pondering since they found out.

After that, the four of them started to eat and soon enough, they were back into talking and laughing like they always did, only with more questions to be answered and better stories to answer them.

 

 

When Steve and Bucky got home later that night they barely managed to get their clothes off before collapsing into bed, purely exhausted. That next morning, Steve awoke to Bucky kissing down his jaw and sucking on his neck. “’Morning.” Steve mumbled as he moved one of his hands to stroke the top of Bucky’s hair. Bucky merely hummed in response as he continued kissing and licking and sucking down Steve’s neck and chest. A small gasp left Steve’s lip when Bucky scraped his teeth lightly against Steve’s hip as he used his mouth to pull down Steve’s boxers. Kissing along Steve’s hip, Bucky made his way to Steve’s erection before taking him down in one go.

 

After over an hour of rolling in the sheets, the two super soldiers eventually made it to the shower in an attempt to clean off and get ready for the day. They managed to continue some of the business they’d been doing in the bed, but after their third round of the morning they finally felt satisfied enough to actually wash off in the shower. As Steve gently rubbed Bucky’s scalp and long hair with shampoo, Bucky murmured, “So now they know.” It wasn’t a question, but it was a topic that they’d managed to avoid all morning due to their… distraction.

“Yeah, Buck.” Was all Steve really had to say; he was at a loss.

“And they still want to be friends with us.” Buck whispered.

Steve’s hands paused momentarily in Bucky’s hair when he realized what was really bothering Bucky. He continued massaging his best guy’s head and promised, “Bucky, it wasn’t your fault. Cindy and Jerry believe that, too. They don’t think you’re a monster.” After a few deep breaths, slowly Bucky nodded and let Steve rinse the shampoo out of his hair. “C’mon. We’ve been in this shower way too long.” Steve tugged Bucky out and handed him a towel so that they could both dry off. When rummaging through their shared dresser, Bucky handed Steve a pair of sweats and a t-shirt before grabbing one of Steve’s sweats for himself. He scraped his hair back into a loose ponytail and they both went into the kitchen to get the coffee going.

Being so tired the night before, Steve had left his phone on the kitchen counter. Bucky moved it to the charger in the corner and noticed that Steve had a voicemail, “Stevie, you have a missed call. They left a message. Unknown name, and the area code isn’t from here.” Normally they only received calls from Cindy and Jerry, George and Sal, and any of the townspeople who required Steve and Bucky’s services for fixing things or helping to move them (as they’ve been doing as odd jobs for small money).

“Go ahead and play it on speaker.” Steve nodded at the phone.

Bucky turned on speaker before hitting play: “Hey Steve, it’s Sam. At least, I think this might be your phone. Nat and I are still looking for you; I guess the others are still, too, but in their own ways. You know how they can be.” Steve practically fell into the counter of the kitchen island, barely holding himself up. Bucky remained very still. “I think Fury finally had S.H.I.E.L.D. stop expending resources to find you—something about you coming back on your own when you were ready. Some of the others think the Winter Soldier kidnapped you or killed you or something. But I know you better than that, and after listening to you talk about Bucky for six months, I think I know him better than that, too. You two probably just wanted to get away and go somewhere quiet. I don’t blame you for that. You two deserve more than your fair share of peace. But I wanted to let you know that we all miss you, man, and we just want to know that you’re okay. Tony said if you two really did just disappear together, then he’ll build a floor for Bucky, or an extra room on your floor, if it’ll bring you back. Well, um, okay I hope you get this. Oh, and I suspect that Tony might be trying to track this number, but I’m not sure—“ the phone cut off with a beep as the message ran out of time.

Steve’s hands were shaking and he couldn’t peel his eyes away from the cellphone lying on the counter next to Bucky. In a few swift steps, Bucky made his way around the kitchen island and behind Steve. From behind, Bucky wrapped his arms around Steve’s torso and pressed his face into Steve’s neck. Steve didn’t move, but his breathing slowed and his hands eventually stopped shaking. “Do you want to go back?” Bucky whispered against his neck. Steve shook his head. “Then what do you want to do?”

Steve pulled in another shaky breath and rasped, “I want to stay here with you. And if they come, then we’ll figure it out then.”

Bucky pressed a soft kiss to the bottom of Steve’s jaw. “Always the strategist, aren’t ya?”

That let out a soft laugh from Steve and his shoulders lost some of their tension. “Is that any way to talk to your commanding officer, soldier?”

“No, sir.” Bucky purred before gently nipping at Steve’s earlobe.


	5. Chapter 5

Steve, Bucky, Cindy, and Jerry were going on their first date night in the city since the baby had been born. They’d driven in Steve’s pickup to the far side of the city to an area they’d never been before to try out a new Vietnamese restaurant. It was delicious. For the entire night, Bucky had been quiet despite the fact that he was having one of his good days. Bucky spent a majority of the evening looking around him as they walked to the restaurant from the car, his eyebrows scrunched in confusion. A few times, Steve gave Bucky a questioning look, asking his best friend what was wrong with his eyes; but Bucky only gave a tiny shake of his head, eyes confused because he hadn’t quite figured out what was wrong himself.

Steve and Bucky treated Cindy and Jerry before the four of them left the restaurant to walk back to the pickup truck parked about a block away. Jerry had his arm around Cindy; Steve and Bucky were holding hands. Bucky’s head was swiveling around, recognition but confusion still evident in his features. “Bucky? You’ve been pretty quiet all night. Is everything okay?” Cindy asked, her eyes trained on her friend.

Just as they’re coming up to the pickup truck Bucky bit his lip, starting to shake his head before he stopped mid-stride, recognition finally dawning on his face. “That’s why I remember this place.” He breathed. The others stopped as well to hear him. “There’s a Hydra base near here. My handl—“ Bucky cut himself off and corrected himself with a hiss, “ _Pierce_ brought me here once or twice for missions.”

Before any of them had a chance to respond, shots rang out, causing Cindy to yelp and Bucky to hold his metal arm up to block two shots that bounced off his arm with an ugly hiss. Jerry quickly moved his wife behind the pickup truck for protection and Steve and Bucky followed his lead. Jerry had his wife trying to be as small as possible while trying to use as much of his body as possible to shield her. His pupils were dilated and his jaw was set, ready for combat. “What was that?” he asked in a low voice as he looked between his two super soldier friends.

“Probably Hydra.” Steve said with a grimace. “Buck—“

“Already on it, sir.” Bucky automatically replied, moving gracefully to the back-end of the truck. He removed the false bottom in the bed of their truck before propping it up to block some of the shots. Reaching into the truck bed, Bucky pulled up Steve’s shield and handed it to him before grabbing four guns and two knives for himself. Peaking around the side of the propped-up false bottom, Bucky aimed his gun and fired two consecutive shots, effectively taking out two Hydra agents. Taking that as his cue to move on, Bucky quickly sprinted around the side of the truck to position himself to take out the next target.

Back at the truck, Steve fished out two more guns and handed them to Jerry and Cindy. “Stay here unless we say otherwise. Use these if any come around.” Steve commanded. Jerry nodded firmly and took the gun with ease; Cindy clutched the gun tightly, causing her knuckles to turn white, but she had a calm and neutral expression on her face. Throwing up his shield, Steve rounded the truck to block three shots that ricochet off his shield almost immediately. Before more shots were fired, Steve launched his shield at the nearest agent hard enough and at just the right angle so that it hit the building wall afterward and bounced to knock out a second agent. Diving into a roll, Steve avoided a couple more shots and ran to grab his shield. An agent jumped out from behind a car just to the right of Steve’s shield, gun raised and finger about to pull the trigger. Suddenly, the man dropped and Steve didn’t have to swivel his head to know that Bucky had him covered. Steve picked up his shield and launched it at the last Hydra agent, effectively knocking him out before making its way back into Steve’s firm grip.

Having heard the shots had finally stopped, Cindy and Jerry made their way from the pickup truck; guns pointed at the ground, and came to Steve and Bucky’s sides. Steve was about to suggest they get in the truck and hurry home when Jerry suggested, “We should go checkout the Hydra base. See how much of it is still up and running.”

Steve shook his head. “No. You two have kids at home.”

“That’s all that was left.” Bucky said quietly. The other three turn to look at Bucky before looking around at the bodies scattered around them. Clearing his throat, Bucky spoke up, “This base was probably mostly abandoned. That was probably all that was left of the guards just to protect whatever equipment and data is left. They probably recognized me and thought that maybe they’d get a pay day if they captured me.” Bucky shuddered.

Steve put his hand on Bucky’s shoulder, giving it a light squeeze. “Buck—“he started to say before Bucky cut him off.

“We should go check out the base. Make sure there’s nothing useful in there. And then destroy it.” Bucky’s voice was clipped, but he looked intently into Steve’s eyes. After a moment of searching his best friend’s eyes, Steve nodded and followed Bucky in the direction of the base with Jerry and Cindy behind them.

 

The base was hidden in a back alley that smelled like garbage and alcohol. The door wasn’t as reinforced as it probably should’ve been and flickering lights lit the hallway. “Not creepy at all.” Cindy muttered under her breath. The four of them ducked into a few rooms to find that they were small living quarters. Down the hall, more rooms revealed computers and files—all of which were covered in dust and probably in disuse. All the same, Bucky lit the file cabinets and computers up with gunfire so that any information they contained would be unrecognizable.

Finally, they made it to the end of the hall; the last room left in the base. Bucky’s breath had become hitched and Steve suspected what lay beyond the door. Before he could stop Bucky from entering the horrible room, Bucky knocked down the door and froze at what he saw in the center of the room: a chair with restraints surrounded by medical equipment and abandoned technology. Bucky had stopped breathing, all color gone from his face, and his entire body was shaking. Steve tried calling his name, but nothing worked. Jerry and Cindy were still standing in the doorway when Steve moved to stand in front of Bucky’s face to block him from the view of the horrible chair. Bucky’s reaction was instantaneous: his metal arm grabbed Steve by the throat and threw him up against the nearest wall. Cindy screamed and Jerry yelled out profanities. Steve desperately clawed at Bucky’s metal wrist as the Winter Soldier got up into Steve’s face and snarled viciously, shoving the barrel of one of his automatics under Steve’s jaw. He started demanding things in Russian and Steve could only rasp out, “Buck, it’s me! It’s Steve!” When nothing happened, Steve repeated the statements in Russian. The Winter Soldier paused in his angry Russian snarling and his grip loosened around Steve. As recognition and horror enveloped his expression, Bucky leapt back from Steve and tried to hide away his metal arm with disgust. Steve held up his hands innocently and soothed, “It’s okay, Buck. I’m fine. You’re fine. Everything is fine. You didn’t hurt me. You’re safe.” As he took steps toward his best guy, Steve saw Bucky flinch and realized this was not the time to touch Bucky. Bucky’s eyes were wide in terror and he turned around to retch, a strangled cry escaping his mouth. When he was done he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and avoided looking at his friends. “Buck,” Steve began lightly. “Can I have the gun?” Bucky didn’t seem to realize the weapon was still clutched in his hand and he immediately dropped the thing as if it were on fire. With his foot he slid over the weapon across the floor. Steve gingerly picked it up and aimed it at the chair. With some prodding, Steve managed to coax Bucky to follow Cindy and Jerry out the door of the room before he lit the entire room up with gunfire.


	6. Chapter 6

 

George and Sal were out of town visiting their grandkids, so instead of going over to their place after church, Steve and Bucky had the Terrence family come over to grill some steaks. Steve and Bucky had just bought the grill and had no clue how to use it, so Jerry and Cindy offered to help. Bucky was holding Lea in his arms as he pushed open the front door, so distracted by her calming and adorable presence that he didn’t even notice that their home had been invaded. Bucky wandered into the kitchen and froze at what he saw in the living room: Tony Stark and Bruce Banner were on the large couch, Natalia—no, _Natasha,_ he mentally corrected himself—was on the love seat, Sam Wilson was on the armchair, and Clint Barton was leaning up against the wall. Sarah was lying on the floor in front of the couch Natasha occupied. Traitor. All eyes were on him and everything was absolutely silent until Lea made a small cooing noise in his arms; Tony asked incredulously, “Is that a _baby_?!”

“Buck? Is everything okay—“ Steve started to ask as he wandered into the house and noticed his best guy had stopped. Steve managed to reach Bucky’s side before he paused as well, finally noticing the Avengers gathered in their living room. Behind the couple, Jerry walked into the house with Isabella on his hip. Ben ran in behind him with his mother shutting the front door. When Ben saw the people occupying the living room he ran up to Steve and tugged on his arm, whispering (loudly enough that the entire room heard), “Uncle Steve! Is that Iron Man on your couch?!” Steve could only give a tiny nod because his mind was still trying to catch up with whatever the hell was going on.

Jerry cleared his throat in the strained silence and offered, “Steve, Buck? We can just do dinner another night if you guys need time to figure this all out.”

Steve couldn’t answer because he was still processing everything. After a moment, Bucky’s brain caught up to the situation and he shook his head, finally peeling his eyes away from the Avengers to look at Steve. Carefully he replied, “We bought enough meat to feed an army. Just in case we messed up a lot.” Bruce and Tony’s jaws practically fell open in surprise at the invitation; Natasha’s eyebrows merely quirked with curiosity.

Steve blinked and finally stepped closer to the living room to address his friends. “Um, hi?” he said lamely.

“ _Um, hi._ ” Tony replied in a mocking tone. Then he growled, “What the hell, Cap?” before looking guiltily at the small children in the room and offering a sheepish grin to Cindy. Bucky was still frozen in place a few paces behind Steve, assessing the threat level of each Avenger before reminding himself that these were Steve’s _friends._ Cindy came up behind Bucky and gently nudged his arm, silently asking for her baby. Bucky handed Lea over automatically.

“Seriously, Steve, why are you here?” Clint iterated in a nicer tone than Tony’s question had been.

Steve fumbled for an explanation, making Bucky finally move from his spot. He placed his hand on Steve’s lower back and explicated, “When Steve and Sam came back to the states after looking for me I approached Steve and told him to leave me alone. It wasn’t safe. I needed to disappear for a while.” Bucky risked a glance at Steve. “But his stubborn ass said leaving me alone wasn’t an option and that if I had to disappear, then he’d disappear with me. So Stevie and I hit the road for a few months before we settled here.” Afterwards, the tension dissolved a bit and everyone got up to give Steve a hug, properly meet Bucky, and be introduced to Cindy and Jerry and the kids.

Steve cleared his throat after a few moments of awkward silence and announced that he was going to go get the grill started before quickly slipping away outside with Jerry and Cindy. Bucky was about to follow them when Isabella wandered up to him and demanded a piggy back ride. Bucky chuckled, “Alright, Princess,” before hefting her onto his back. Ben bee lined it for Tony and immediately started asking questions.

Sam slipped out of the room and went outside to join Steve, Cindy, and Jerry. He gives Steve an easy smile and Steve’s heart clenches a bit when he realizes just how much he’d missed this easy going, supportive man. They hug again and mutter to each other how much they missed the other before breaking apart. Sam had a small shine in his eye and half of his mouth was pulled up into a subtle smirk. “So,” Sam started to chide, “You and Bucky finally together again?”

Steve blanched at Sam’s words and found he was reeling for an explanation. Before moving to the small town, Steve had never told anyone about him and Bucky going steady. Steve was scrambling to find words and instead just asked, “H-how did you know?”

Rolling his eyes, Sam responded, “Please, Steve. I spent six months with you traveling around the world to find Bucky. I would have to be an idiot not to notice the way you talked about him.” Steve felt his cheeks burn red and tried to find something to do with his hands, settling with just running them through his hair a few times with nervous energy. Cindy and Jerry were quiet beside them, pretending to be wholly focused on the grill. Sam gave him a kind smile before repeating, “So are you two back together again?” Steve didn’t trust himself to speak so he just gave his friend a hasty nod. “Are you going to tell the team?” Before Steve could really think about it and the consequences, he gave Sam a nod. Sam smacked Steve on the back in congratulations before wandering back inside.

Steve let out a breath he hadn’t known he’d been holding and turned to Cindy and Jerry, whom both had raised eyebrows. “You never told your friends that you and Bucky were together?” Cindy asked curiously, confusion in her features.

Steve nervously ran another hand through his hair, thinking through his reply. “Back then, it was illegal. We couldn’t tell _anybody._ ” He emphasized. Shrugging, he continued, “Before I disappeared with Buck, I still hadn’t really wrapped my head around the idea that it was okay to be open about it. It wasn’t until him and I were actually together again for those few months before we came here that we were comfortable enough to be together out in the open.” Steve laughed quietly to himself. “Even then, sometimes him and I are too scared to touch each other in crowded places.” Cindy and Jerry gave Steve a sad smile before Jerry decided it was time to distract his friend by showing him how to use the grill.

 

When Steve and the married couple come back inside with three large plates piled high with grilled meat, Tony finally seemed to acknowledge that the two super soldier and Terrence family were dressed in their Sunday best and that they’d come from church. Tony eyed the Winter Soldier suspiciously before turning his attention to Steve. “Jeez, Cap, you still go to church? And you bring tall, dark, and terrifying with you?” Steve frowned at Tony’s nickname for his best guy but chose to ignore it. Tony plundered on, “Bet you’re not too used to having to confess, huh, golden boy?”

At that, Steve and Bucky both barked out a laugh. The entire room didn’t seem to understand what was so funny before Bucky grunted in amusement, his Brooklyn accent slipping out, “Are you kidding me? Rogers has been getting into trouble since he was born!”

Steve gave Bucky a knowing glint and muttered, “You’re one to talk.” Bucky just gave Steve a cheeky grin and Steve announced louder, “Back then I had to confess every single week starting when I was twenty.” Bucky sucked in a breath at that. Steve was twenty when him and Bucky finally admitted their feelings to one another and got together. Steve saying that meant he was probably going to tell the team about their relationship. His eyes were still on Bucky, imploring if it was okay; Bucky gave Steve a minute nod to go ahead.

“Oh yeah? And why’s that?” Clint asked curiously, his head inclined a little.

Steve didn’t answer directly, but instead supplied, “I’m surprised you guys didn’t snoop around the house while you were waiting for us.” All of the Avengers expressions seemed confused except for Sam, and somehow, Natasha’s. Steve sighed and braced himself as he explained, “There’s only one bedroom.”

Understanding seemed to immediately dawn onto all of their faces and Tony muttered, “Dad never mentioned that.”

Of course, Steve and Bucky picked it up with their super soldier hearing. Steve rolled his eyes and said, “Tony, it’s not like it was something we could exactly tell people back then.”

“How long?” Bruce piped up; no judgment or anger, just curiosity and support.

“Since 1938.” Bucky answered, his gaze turned to Steve.

“That explains so much.” Clint mused with a wondrous expression.


End file.
